


a hunger like no other

by lostmagician



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Dark, M/M, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostmagician/pseuds/lostmagician
Summary: When Daniel came along, Johnny knew there was something special about him. The dark hair, the doe eyes, the pink curved lips that made Johnny's stomach clench like a fist.He was fearless, mouthy, and Johnny found himself obsessed in a way he'd never been before.
Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence
Comments: 188
Kudos: 268





	1. back to life

**Author's Note:**

> A dark Johnny story, inspired by the TV show _You._ Told in two parts.
> 
> Rated E for sex and violence.

_(part i: the chase)_

He hadn't always been like this. There was a time when things would happen, and he'd let go. He'd fail an algebra exam, and forget about it the next day. Sid would call him a _son of a bitch_ , and he'd let it roll off his back. His girlfriend giving him the silent treatment? It didn't matter. She'd get over it.

But that was before Daniel had come into his life with his punk attitude and Jersey accent.

From the first time they'd met in '84, Johnny knew there was something special about him. The dark hair, the doe eyes, the pink curved lips that made Johnny's stomach clench like a fist.

Their rivalry set off like a firecracker. Electricity sizzling in the space between them, like a fuse ready to light up the sky. Daniel was fearless, mouthy, and Johnny found himself obsessing in a way he'd never before.

His friends noticed. Of course, they did.

“What’s going on between you and LaRusso?” Dutch would ask, careless in a way that was anything but.

Johnny hunched his shoulders, and looked away. He didn’t like that he was so transparent. The worst was during PE, when he’d sit on the edge of his seat, watching Daniel kick the ball across the field. His entire body would be tight with tension, and then suddenly, hard fingers would dig into his arm.

“Breathe, man,” Bobby would say in his ear. “Come on, breathe.”

Bobby’s grip would tighten, and all at once, the air would release from Johnny’s lungs, leaving him dizzy and nauseated.

He thought that things would change after the Tournament, that he and Daniel could turn the page, become _closer._ But no sooner prom had finished, Daniel had disappeared out of state.

From then on, Johnny's life only went downhill.

He graduated with passing grades, and enrolled in a college nearby, but he didn't enjoy the classes. So, he dropped out the second year, and got a job in construction with Jimmy's dad.

He spent his twenties wandering in and out of bars, searching for a missing piece that would fill the void. He fucked women in bathroom stalls, their moans echoing around him, as they squeezed around his cock. He had sex with men, an endless stream of dark eyes and lean bodies.

But none of them compared to Daniel. They were all bland versions of the real thing. Second-hand copies with broken features and stale personalities.

He was thirty-five years old, when he knocked up a chick that he'd met at a bar. His mother died around the same time, and it only made things worse. He didn't attend his son's birth; too busy laying in a puddle of vomit, recovering from a three-day bender.

It's how he survived the next decade. Drinking hard, and jumping from paycheck to paycheck, barely making ends meet.

Then, one day, a familiar face cropped up on billboards across the city. It didn’t take long for Bobby's name to flash on his screen again.

“Be careful,” he told Johnny in warning—but what he meant to say was _Stay away._ “You know what he does to you.”

Johnny bit back his tongue. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. Yes, there was still that itch inside of him, but he knew how to deal with it now.

He didn't do anything to seek out Daniel, he knew better than that. But it seemed fate had other ideas.

*

It happened late one night on the side of the road. A bunch of teenagers crashed into his car, and the tow truck driver gave him a card. Johnny looked down at the face that had haunted him for the past thirty-four years.

“You got to be shitting me,” Johnny said to himself.

The next morning, he grabbed his hoodie, a pair of sunglasses, and went to the address written on the card.

The dealership was a one-story building with a floor-to-ceiling glass front. Nobody talked to him except the receptionist, and a curly-haired salesman. The entire time, Johnny tapped his foot on the floor, expecting Daniel to show up, but the place stayed conspicuously empty.

Finally, he was told to return the next week to pick up his car. As he headed toward the exit, his stomach sank in disappointment. He told himself that maybe this was a sign. Maybe he and Daniel weren’t meant to be together.

He was on his way out the door, when a voice called out to him.

“John?”

The name sent a shiver down his spine. He turned around, his heart pounding in his chest, and a feeling rising in his throat.

It was actually him.

His breath hitched when long arms wrapped around him.

"Oh my God, look at you," Daniel said, stepping back to get a good look at him. His tongue darted out to lick over his lips. "You still got those golden locks, eh?"

And just like that, the fire came roaring back into Johnny's life, and in that moment, he knew he was no longer surviving.

 _He was living again._


	2. old tape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was blown away by the response on the first chapter. Thank you to everyone who read and commented.

After the dealership, Johnny went back home, and stood for a long time at the door. His eyes roamed over the apartment, from the cans of beer strewn on every surface, to the empty food containers and twizzler wrappers.

He felt like a new man, and it didn’t sit right with him that his place looked like such a dump.

So, he grabbed a trash bag, and got to work. He cleaned up the place as best as he could, swiping anything that he didn’t need, and putting away all the things he could reuse. When he was done, it was dark outside, and his stomach was growling. He heated up a frozen pizza, and ate it on the kitchen counter, chewing slowly.

He knew what he was going to do next: he was simply biding his time. Finally, he wiped his hands on his jeans, and threw away the box.

His heart raced in his throat, as he headed to his bedroom. He got down on one knee, and rifled through the bottom drawer of his dresser. It didn’t take long for his hands to find what he was looking for. The tape was bare, with nothing written on the label. He returned to the living room, and popped it into the VHS player.

Then, he grabbed a beer and plonked down in front of the television. He waited, his belly tight with anticipation.

The screen crackled to life, fizzing for a few seconds, before going black. Then, a familiar face flashed on-screen.

_“Banzai! Daniel LaRusso here for LaRusso Auto, bringing you specials on all of our inventory...”_

Johnny sank deeper into the armchair, letting the voice wash over him. He didn’t rewatch the video often, only when he was piss drunk or sad.

Every time he’d wake up the next morning with his face smashed into the carpet, and the image of Daniel seared into his brain.

Now, with the encounter fresh on his mind, he was able to watch the commercial in a new light. His eyes traced over Daniel’s body, the narrow shoulders, the long legs. He walked like he owned the asphalt underneath his feet.

_“We are chopping prices on SUV’s, Crossovers, Sedans and Convertibles...”_

It was such a stupid gimmick, _chopping prices_ and _kicking the competition,_ but Daniel made it work, even as he delivered hand strikes in mid-air. The scene cut away to a map, and then back to him again.

Just as Daniel handed a bonsai over to the viewer, Johnny pressed on pause.

Those were the same hands that had brushed against his fingers hours before. He sank his teeth into his lower lip and sat back, dropping a hand between his thighs. Not moving, just resting there.

He thought back to their interaction, the way Daniel had looked at him, like Johnny was the center of his world.

He’d called his two employees, and it seemed like he’d spoken about Johnny before, because their eyes had lit up in recognition at the mention of his name. Did Daniel talk about him often? The thought sent a thrill down Johnny’s spine.

Johnny remembered what he’d said. _I kicked him in the face,_ and under normal circumstances, it would have pissed Johnny off. But now, he only smiled in amusement.

It was cute that Daniel thought he could still win in a fight. Johnny had grown into his body, filled out in his shoulders, his chest. Daniel had gotten taller, but he was still thin as a reed. Johnny could probably cover his entire hip bone with the width of his palms alone.

The more he thought about it, the more aroused he got. He ground his hand down, letting out a moan at the pressure. The image of Daniel’s body squirming underneath him, at his full mercy—was too good to bare. He rubbed himself harder, the dampness spreading to the front of his boxers.

Suddenly, he released himself, and started unbuckling his jeans, his eyes darting between the screen and his cock. He was about to dip into his boxers and grab himself, when a thought stopped him dead cold.

What had the curly-haired guy said?

_The damage seems pretty bad. It_ _’ll need at least a full week for repairs._

He forgot all about his erection, and sat up in the armchair, suddenly bothered. He hadn’t seen Daniel in thirty-four years. Now that he’d finally found him, he didn’t think he could stand being away from him that long.

Johnny needed to see him again, and _soon._ He could go to the dealership, but what good excuse did he have?

No, he needed to play it smarter.

Asking Bobby to lend him a car would lead to a full interrogation. Jimmy was out of the question; ever since he’d joined the church last year, he lived up Bobby’s ass. Tommy wasn’t doing so well either.

Not for the first time, Johnny wished that Dutch was still around. As much as the guy busted his balls, he always had Johnny’s back.

That left Mike from work.

He was going to have to beg for his job back anyway. Maybe he could sweeten the deal by foregoing a day’s salary in exchange for a car. That sounded reasonable enough.

Johnny felt himself relax into his seat. The video was still paused on Daniel’s face. He looked down at his lap, where his dick was still straining. He raised his hips and lowered his boxers, before spitting into his palm.

He was good to go again. 


	3. watching

Daniel’s house was tucked away in a small street in Encino, away from the other residences. It was ridiculously easy to find through the White Pages. Johnny drove by a few times to check for security, but to his surprise, there were no gates, no visible cameras, no pets.

On the third round, he slowed down and parked across the street. There were enough trees to hide the car, and he had a good partial view of the house.

Johnny wondered if he’d made a mistake by coming so early. All the curtains were closed, and the house was eerily quiet. If it weren’t for the two cars in the driveway, he would have thought they’d gone for the weekend.

He sat back, and waited.

*

At ten o'clock, Daniel emerged from the house.

Johnny sat up straight, and drank in the sight of him. He was dressed in a dark blue jogging suit and white tennis shoes, his hair combed to the side in what seemed to be his signature style.

He disappeared around the back of the house, and returned a moment later with a lawn mower. He bent down, pulled the starter cord, and got to work.

Johnny watched in silent fascination, as Daniel went back and forth across the front yard. He had trouble believing that Daniel couldn’t afford a company for this kind of job.

So, why was he doing it himself?

*

At eleven o'clock, Daniel trimmed all the plants in the garden.

*

Around noon, he watered them.

*

At twelve fifty, Johnny's phone rang. It was Bobby. He wanted to invite Johnny for a Sunday lunch next week, and asked if Johnny could help him set up the bouncy castle for the kids.

"Hey, what's that sound?" Bobby asked.

Johnny looked at the house, where Daniel had started drilling in one of the rooms. If Bobby knew where he was, Johnny would be icing his balls for the next year.

"Just an angry cat. Talk to you later."

He hurried to shut the phone.

*

At two thirty, a delivery truck stopped by, and Johnny hurried to pick up a map from the passenger seat. He pretended to look over it, and watched from the corner of his eye as the delivery guy walked up to the house. He rang the bell, and a young boy opened the door.

He had a gaming console in one hand, and a snickers bar in the other. His eyes widened at the sight of the package.

“Sweet!” he yelled.

He caught the chocolate bar between his teeth, grabbed the box, and ran inside. Johnny snorted, but his amusement soon faded away, when a woman appeared at the door.

Johnny dropped the map. He knew that Daniel was married. He wasn’t an idiot, he’d seen the wedding ring on his finger. But to see the woman in the flesh was still jarring. His eyes darted over her, from the long legs to the small waist and megawatt smile.

She signed the package, and waved good-bye. Johnny’s teeth started aching after a few minutes, and he realized his jaw was clenched tight. He tried to relax as best as he could.

After that, he didn’t see Daniel for a while. So, he went to take a breather, and grab a bite to eat.

*

When he came back, it was five twenty, and there was only one car in the driveway. Johnny worried that Daniel had left, but he appeared a few minutes later through a window on the first floor. He was carrying boxes back and forth, almost like he was organizing a storage area.

Johnny's chest twinged. Did the guy ever take a break?

*

At seven o'clock, he disappeared again. Johnny guessed that the kitchen, dining room and living room were at the back of the house, because he didn’t see anybody again for the next few hours.

By then, it was starting to get dark outside. Johnny rifled through the bag in the passenger seat, grabbed a donut and took a bite. When still nothing happened, he turned on the radio and listened to rock music on low volume.

*

After what felt like an eternity, a light came on in a bedroom on the second floor. Daniel had showered and changed into pajamas. He walked to the window, and stared down at his phone.

Johnny let out a sigh: he had no idea how Daniel was still vertical. He didn’t want to leave, but it was getting late. He gave Daniel one last lingering look, and was about to turn on the engine, when Daniel’s wife entered the room. Johnny’s eyebrows flew up at the sight of her.

She looked— _different_ , dressed in a silk nightgown with a lace v-neck.

He hurried to grab a pair of binoculars from underneath the car seat. She walked up to Daniel and started to kiss the back of his neck. Daniel dropped his head forward and closed his eyes.

“Tell her you’re tired,” Johnny said under his breath. “Come on, LaRusso.”

Daniel looked dead on his feet, swaying with exhaustion. He’d been working all day, how was he even still awake? She placed a hand on his chest, moved it slowly down his belly, and that seemed to snap him into action.

He turned around and caught her in a hard kiss.

“What are you doing?” Johnny asked, as Daniel cupped her jaw and attacked her mouth.

Suddenly, he released her. He nudged his forehead against her and said something. She nodded, and headed toward the bed. Daniel pressed his lips together, and approached the window. He grabbed the curtains with his two hands, and paused.

With the binoculars, Johnny could see every single detail on his face. The tired lines around his eyes, the furrow in his forehead—Johnny didn’t understand what he was doing? He obviously didn’t _want_ this. Daniel took a deep breath, and in one big swoop, closed the curtains.

Johnny let out a huff. He sat back and rubbed a hand against his mouth.

What the hell was _that_ about? 


	4. new plan

Johnny had an old memory of Daniel. It was buried in the dark recesses of his mind.

He was seventeen, and it was after fifth period. He’d just found out that Tommy was going to lead the next demonstration at the dojo, and he was pissed as hell. Wasn’t _he_ the best student of Cobra Kai? Isn’t that what Kreese had said?

He was walking down the hallway, seething in silence, when he bumped hard into Daniel: he was the perfect target for Johnny’s anger.

They lashed out against each other, trading jabs and insults like barbed wires. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. But Johnny must have shown his hand, because when push came to shove, Daniel made a comment about Kreese.

_Your Sensei not giving you attention? Is that it?_

The words struck a nerve, and Johnny didn’t know what took over him. He surged forward and crowded against Daniel, big and intimidating. Daniel’s eyes widened in fear. He took a step back, then another, until his spine hit the wall.

They were nose-to-nose, and so close that were practically breathing the same air.

“Watch your mouth, asshole,” Johnny growled.

He didn’t even recognize his own voice. There was a darkness inside of him, clawing its way up his throat. His entire body tight with tension, his limbs shaking with adrenaline.

He expected Daniel to fight back _(don_ _’t call me an asshole)_ but he didn’t. His eyes darted all over Johnny’s face, before dropping to the floor, and then something happened. Something so expected that Johnny still wondered today if he’d imagined it.

Daniel just—he went _soft,_ dropping his head back, leaving his throat bare, as his shoulders melted into the wall.

Like he was yielding himself to Johnny.

Johnny thought about that moment many times over the years. Wondering what it meant, what he could glean from it. He didn’t know why the memory resurfaced now, but it was all he could think about during the next week.

*

He got a new project at work, an eight-bedroom villa to paint up in North Hollywood. So, he didn’t have any other choice but to wait for his appointment at the dealership. When the day came, he took off work early, went home to wash up, get dressed, before heading back out.

The dealership was less crowded on this Thursday afternoon. He made a beeline for the reception, and asked to see Mr. LaRusso. While waiting, he allowed his eyes to roam over the place, his stomach twisting when he noticed Daniel’s wife across the room.

She was wearing a red dress, with a little scarf around her neck. Johnny didn’t know what to make of her. The night at Daniel’s had thrown a dent into his assumptions, and instead of hatred, he only felt a deep level of suspicion.

Johnny was mulling it over, when Daniel finally showed up. He was clean-shaven, and dressed to the nines in a navy business suit. But Johnny didn’t let that fool him.

He scanned Daniel’s face the moment he was close enough. There were deep lines in his forehead, and a tightness around his mouth. He looked _tired_. Johnny’s chest twinged again.

“Hey,” Daniel said, smiling. “How’s it going?”

“I’m good,” Johnny replied, careful to keep his eyes on Daniel’s face. _“_ You? How was your week?”

“Great,” Daniel said, ushering him outside.

Johnny followed him, and they walked out the doors, into the lot.

“Just the usual, sales reports and business meetings,” Daniel continued, before frowning. “What did you say you worked in?”

“Odd jobs here and there. Mostly repairs and maintenance.”

“Okay, well I hope you didn’t have too much trouble without your car. I was actually going to call you about it. I had a look at the diagnostic test, and thought it could use a little more work. I hope you don’t mind that I ordered them through.” He waved to the side. “Ta-da. There it is.”

Johnny turned around and froze. He wouldn’t have recognized his car if Daniel hadn’t pointed it out. Gone were the dents, and ragged edges. Now, the Firebird was a sleek red color, with smooth lines and a gleaming hood.

Daniel’s face flushed. “I, uh, asked the guys to give it a paint job.”

Johnny worked his mouth back and forth, still in shock.

“I can’t afford this,” he finally said.

“No, come on,” Daniel said, quick to reassure him. “It’s on the house. Consider it a thank you for being such a good sport after that Tournament. Also...” Daniel’s eyes traced over the car, a wistful glint in his eye, before shrugging. “It’s a classic.”

Johnny swallowed thickly.

“Thanks,” he croaked.

Daniel smiled, and he looked more relaxed now. Johnny had spent all week making a contrived plan to see Daniel again. It involved his car, a pair of sunglasses, and tailing Daniel wherever he went. _He’d written it down,_ for fuck’s sake.

He threw the plan out the window.

“Let’s have a drink,” Johnny said.

“What?” Daniel asked.

“Now, let’s go grab something. I know a bar close by.”

_Please say yes._

Daniel shifted on his feet. “I’m not sure I can. I have a lot of things to do...”

But there was the strange tilt in his voice, like he was tempted. It gave Johnny all the confidence he needed. He squared his shoulders.

“You can finish up later. Come on, we’ll be in and out. We won’t take long.”

If he still said no, Johnny didn’t know what he was going to do.

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, and glanced over his shoulder. His wife was standing at the reception, talking with a client.

“What, you need to ask for permission or something?” Johnny goaded him.

Daniel turned to him, surprised. Something steeled inside of him.

“No.” He took a deep breath. “Let me go clear my schedule for the afternoon. I’ll meet you out in ten minutes. Is that okay?”

Johnny’s heart sang, but all he said was,

“Yeah, sure.” 


	5. first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's me! Thank you all for the feedback so far. I have a better idea of where the story is going, and it's gonna be exciting.
> 
> I would like to dedicate this story to Mari Passos. She requested this back in April 2020, and I've been dying to write it ever since.

When Daniel appeared again, he’d taken off his jacket, and loosened his tie. Johnny tried hard not to stare at the dip of his throat, where sweat glistened in the shadows. They got into Johnny’s car, and he only breathed easier once they were on the road.

The ride was quiet, comfortable.

Halfway through, Johnny turned on the radio and REO Speedwagon played through the speakers. He smiled when Daniel started bopping his head to the tempo, and tapping his fingers against his thigh. It was like they were meant to be.

“Here we are,” Johnny said, rolling into the parking lot. Daniel glanced around curiously.

The bar was tucked between a Thai restaurant and a cigar shop. It was a typical hole-in-the-wall pub with wooden tables and chairs. Johnny opened the door, and led Daniel inside. It was practically empty at this time of day.

“What will you be having?” the bartender asked, as they sat down at the bar.

“A beer,” Johnny said.

“Uh... A Kettle martini, straight up, couple of olives. Ice, ice cold.”

Johnny snorted.

“Something funny?” Daniel asked, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“Not funny,” Johnny said. “Just ridiculous.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “I haven’t played hooky in twenty years. I’m allowed to enjoy myself with a good drink.”

“Whatever you say, Danielle.”

The flush that went up Daniel’s ears was endearing. They sat in silence for a minute, until their drinks arrived.

Johnny cleared his throat.

“So, how did you get into cars?” he asked. Was it weird that Johnny wanted to know? Daniel didn’t notice anything off. He answered, while stirring his martini.

“I’ve always been into them, ever since I was a kid. Growing up, we didn’t have that much money. My mom had this station wagon, a real piece of junk.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “We literally had to push it to get the engine started.”

He took a sip, and Johnny waited, listening.

“But then I met Mr. Miyagi. He took me under his wing, and gave me his ‘74 Ford. It was the best day of my life. Ever since then…” He trailed off.

“Is he still around?” Johnny asked, taking a pull of beer.

“No. He, uh, passed away a few years back.” Daniel’s eyes dropped to the counter, as he traced his fingers through the condensation on his glass. “What about you? Is Kreese still around?”

“No,” Johnny said. “Last I heard he was dead.”

“And Cobra Kai?”

Johnny looked up. There was something about the question: it seemed loaded. Daniel’s shoulders were hunched, his eyes fixed on his hands.

“Died with him,” Johnny said, and just like that, the crank turned. The tension released from Daniel’s body, and he looked relaxed again. Johnny wondered what that was about.

As he took another pull, he traced over Daniel’s features: the straight nose, the curved angle of his jaw. His hair was still dark—unnaturally so, a few silver hairs peeking at the temples.

Maybe one day Johnny could convince him to skip the hair dye.

“You ever think about doing karate again?” Daniel’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Johnny blinked and returned his attention to the present. He thought about it.

“Sometimes. You?”

“I used to dream about it,” Daniel said, dimpling a cheek. “Opening my own dojo, mentoring young students. I tried it with my daughter, but it didn’t pan out.”

“You have a daughter?” Johnny asked in surprise.

He almost face-palmed himself.

Daniel’s lips curled in a small smile. “Yeah. Sam, she’s sixteen and I have a son Anthony, who’s eleven.” He turned his head toward Johnny. “Do you have any kids?”

“Yeah, Robby. Same age as your daughter.” Johnny wished he could smile like Daniel—like all fathers did. But his next words tasted like ash. “He wants nothing to do with me.”

“Why not?” Daniel asked, and he always had a way of doing that, asking the tough questions with big doe eyes.

_We both know you can kick my ass seven ways from Sunday, so why do you still bother?_

He’d asked Johnny the question once, after they’d run into each other at school. It had caught Johnny off guard. _Maybe_ _‘cause I like to,_ he’d replied, like he didn’t have any choice but to tell the truth.

It’s how he felt now.

“Maybe because I was a shit dad. I wasn’t there for him when he was born. I’m still not there for him today.”

“Where does he live?”

“With his mom.”

Daniel seemed to mull it over. “Well, nothing is set in stone, right? You can still fix it.”

Johnny shook his head. “It’s too late for that.”

“It’s never too late. Things change, they always do. Yeah, it could take you weeks, months, maybe even years.” Daniel flexed his hand on the counter. “But if a relationship is special and worth fighting for, you should go for it.”

Johnny looked up, uncertain. What the hell did that mean? Was Daniel talking about them? There was a niggling feeling inside of him. He watched as Daniel looked away, and leaned forward to grab a handful of nuts. Their shoulders brushed in a slow, deliberate movement.

“I mean,” Daniel said, shrugging. “That’s what my wife would say.”

The niggling feeling extinguished like a snuffed candle. For a second there, he’d thought... Johnny worked his jaw back and forth.

“Yeah,” he said, low and rough.

He took a long pull of beer. It was really stupid. He should have known Daniel wouldn’t give in that easy.


	6. after the bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me crying from all the comments on the last chapter. I've got the next 15 chapters outlined, and that's... only for part I.

They ended up staying all afternoon at the bar. At first, they talked about random things: 80s movies, music, sports. It turned out they had a lot of things in common. At six o’clock, they got hungry and ordered burgers.

After eating, the conversation grew more intimate. Daniel talked about his father dying at the age of eight, and Johnny shared what it was like living under Sid. They’d both used karate to fill the man-shaped hole in their lives.

Daniel ordered martini after martini. By early evening, his eyes were glassy, and there was a slight slur in his speech. They paid the bill, and headed outside. They’d just stepped through the door, when Daniel tripped on his feet.

Johnny caught him by the waist.

“Hey, take it easy,” he said, holding Daniel up.

Daniel blinked hard at the ground, and then chuckled. “You’d think balance was my thing.”

“Maybe not when you’ve got four martinis inside of you. Where do you live?” Johnny asked, because it was the only way to get his mind off the thin waist under his fingers. “I’ll drop you off.”

“No, it’s fine,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “I can order a cab.”

“LaRusso, don’t be stupid. I’ll drive you.”

Daniel looked up, and Johnny realized how close they were. Shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. He could feel Daniel’s every breath like a fiery exhale against his lips.

“Okay,” Daniel said.

Now that Daniel was standing straight, Johnny didn’t need to hold him anymore. He released Daniel’s waist, already missing the warmth. They walked to the car, Johnny two steps behind in case Daniel tripped again.

It was dark outside, and there was a warm breeze in the air. Daniel got into the passenger seat by himself, and fumbled with his belt.

The ride was as quiet as in the afternoon. Daniel laid his head against the window, and gave Johnny directions to his house. Ten minutes in, he told Johnny to take the second right, but Johnny knew it was the third. So he distracted Daniel with a question about the dealership, while he took the correct turn.

When he arrived, it was pitch-black, and Daniel’s house was a beacon of light in the distance.

“That’s me,” Daniel said with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Johnny said, before hesitating. “We should do it again sometime.”

Daniel rolled his head toward Johnny, and hummed. He didn’t move, just stayed there with his head pressed against the window. Johnny chewed the inside of his cheek. It was the perfect opportunity to ask Daniel about his wife, maybe find out what kind of relationship they had.

But there was something else on his mind. It had sunk its teeth into his consciousness like a rabid dog.

“Why were you relieved when I told you Cobra Kai was dead?”

Daniel frowned, a soft crinkle in between his eyebrows. It made him look seventeen all over again.

“When’s the last time you saw Kreese?” Daniel asked.

The name never failed to make Johnny’s hairs stand on end. He swallowed thickly.

“The week after the Tournament.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, but Johnny kept his expression open and neutral: it was the truth. It seemed Daniel believed him. He stretched his legs in the footwell, settling more comfortably in his seat.

“He came back in ‘85, six months after the All-Valley. I’d just opened a bonsai shop with Mr. Miyagi, and things were going well until...” He licked his lips, and turned to stare into the distance. “Until Kreese returned. Except this time he wasn’t alone. He worked with this other guy called Silver.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” Johnny said.

“He was just a guy who had it in for me. Just like everybody else at the time. He manipulated me from the beginning, made me believe I needed to change who I was to win a tournament.”

Johnny kept his fingers on the wheel. He remembered Kreese’s ruthlessness, his general lack of scruples. _Sweep the leg, no mercy._ There was only one question on Johnny’s mind.

“Did he hurt you?”

For a moment, Johnny thought that he wasn’t going to answer. Daniel’s eyes traveled down to his hand, and he rubbed a thumb over his knuckles.

“Yeah.”

Johnny’s stomach twisted. The thought of someone hurting Daniel... He tightened his fingers around the wheel, feeling a surge of protectiveness.

_(But you hurt him too. All those years ago, remember the knee—)_

No, but that was different. _He_ was different.

“Does it make you angry?” Daniel asked.

Johnny didn’t say anything. His jaw was clenched so tight he felt like he’d swallowed glue. Daniel watched him closely, as though trying to gauge his reaction. He shrugged.

“I guess Silver saw something inside of me. What he thought was weakness, and he tried to twist it to his advantage.”

Johnny’s mind raced, trying to understand what that meant. Daniel met Johnny’s eyes again, his mouth softening.

“Anyway, that’s all in the past now,” Daniel said.

The tightness in Johnny’s chest didn’t ease up. He watched as Daniel stretched his neck back against the window. In the darkness, he looked so vulnerable. His throat bare and his lips shiny wet with spit.

After a while, Daniel’s eyes dropped, unsure. He took off his seat belt, fumbled for the handle, and climbed out. He didn’t say _good bye_ or _see you later_ , just closed the door behind him and walked away.

Johnny watched as he disappeared inside the house. There was a stone in the pit of his stomach. 


	7. lunch at bobby's

The rest of the week flew by, until it was Sunday and time for Bobby’s lunch. As promised, Johnny went over early to help set up the bouncy castle, and cook the burgers. He was regretting it now as piercing screams ripped through the air. The kids were going crazy, while the adults milled around Bobby’s backyard, eating and laughing.

Johnny stood in a corner, nursing a beer by himself. He didn’t have an appetite. It had been three days since his date with Daniel. Three days since Johnny had laid eyes on him. They’d exchanged numbers at the bar, but Johnny had yet to pick up the phone and call him.

The truth was he felt unsure.

He couldn’t get Daniel’s words out of his head. The conversation played over and over again in his mind like a broken record.

_I guess Silver saw something inside of me. What he thought was weakness..._

Johnny thought back to the first time they met. That night at the beach, under the starry sky with the smell of the ocean floating in the air. The sight of Daniel had stirred something inside of him, a primal feeling that had rushed through his veins like wildfire. Is that what Silver had felt too?

He was mulling it over, when somebody sided next to him. It was Bobby. He was dressed in navy blue pants and a striped dress shirt, like it wasn’t a hundred degrees outside.

“So,” Bobby said. “You got a cat?”

Johnny frowned in confusion.

_“What?”_

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “The other day, when I asked you what that sound was behind you, you said it was an angry cat.”

Johnny racked his brain, trying to remember what he was talking about. Then, all at once, the memory came rushing back. Sitting outside Daniel’s house, getting the call from Bobby.

_What’s that sound?_ Bobby had asked.

“Oh,” Johnny said, because he was so dumb. He couldn’t have said anything else? “I was at the cat center.”

Bobby stared at him for a beat.

“The cat center,” he repeated.

“Yeah, you know,” Johnny said, hunching his shoulders defensively. “The place where you buy stupid cats.”

It was hard not to squirm under the weight of Bobby’s gaze. It was a long, intense one that made Johnny think of laser vision and x-rays.

Then, Bobby sighed.

“Okay, what’s going on?” he asked. Johnny tensed, and Bobby’s eyes darted all over his face. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you got here. Did something happen?”

Johnny clenched his jaw, and looked away. Trust Bobby to always know when something was up. He shrugged, hoping to get some point across.

“Johnny?” Bobby asked again.

“Nothing. Nothing happened.”

There was a pregnant pause, during which Johnny chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Is it—” Bobby started, before shifting on his feet. “Are you having weird thoughts again?”

And just like that, a familiar wave of shame washed over Johnny. It burrowed underneath his skin and lodged deep in his gut. It must have shown on his face, because Bobby’s expression softened. He drew closer and curled a hand around the back of Johnny’s neck.

“Hey, come on,” Bobby said, kneading his fingers into stiff muscle—slow and gentle. “You know I don’t mean anything by that. It’s just... I’m worried about you. I want to help.”

Johnny breathed in and out of his nose. The repetitive movement on his neck was getting to his head and making him dizzy.

For a crazy minute, he considered telling Bobby the truth. _I saw Daniel again. I saw him, and I haven’t been able to sleep since._ But Bobby wouldn’t understand. He’d think Johnny was fucking up his life all over again.

“I told you,” Johnny said in a raspy voice. He peered up at Bobby. “It’s nothing. Just Mike giving me shit at work.”

The fingers on his neck slowed down to a stop. They looked at each other, Bobby’s blue eyes leveled against his, calm and resolute.

Then, Bobby released him, letting his hand travel down Johnny’s back in a downward slope.

“Okay, but if I find out you’re lying? I’m kicking your ass.”

Johnny scoffed. “Are priests even allowed to talk this way?”

Bobby turned his eyes to the sky, and raised his hands. “For the hundredth time, I’m a pastor, not a priest. They’re two different things.”

The words were exasperated, but when he looked at Johnny again, there was a fond glint in his eye. Something loosened in Johnny’s chest.

Silence fell between them. Bobby pressed his shoulder more firmly against Johnny’s, and they drank together for a few minutes. Johnny couldn’t believe he’d been so close to saying something.

“So, how are the kids?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

“Good,” Bobby said, before sniffing. “Well, as good as they can get. Jen decided she wanted to take up the drums, and Sarah discovered the joys of texting, and hasn’t left her phone since.”

Johnny’s eyes went across the garden, where Bobby’s teenage daughter was sitting at a table by herself, bent over her phone. Her thumbs were flying across the screen.

“Wait, so she just sends texts all day?” Johnny asked, confused.

“Yeah,” Bobby snorted. “Times are changing, huh? I swear, back in the day, either we used the house phone, or we ventured out, hoping we’d find our friends at the usual hanging spot.”

That’s how Johnny remembered it too. He bit his lip. This entire time, he thought he needed to call Daniel, but he realized now that maybe there was a better way to get in touch.

He pondered in silence.


	8. texting

First, he got a fucking cat. It was black with short hair and green eyes. Johnny had no idea why he did these things to himself.

He had vague memories of owning a cat when he was a kid. He’d found it on the street, cold and afraid, and begged his mom to keep it. She’d said yes after endless hours of nagging, and Johnny remembered being so happy that the cat’s eyes had bugged out when he’d hugged it to his chest.

Three months later, it got run over by a car.

Now, Johnny pushed his way into the apartment, cursing Bobby with every breath. He dropped all the bags on the floor, and blew out a long breath. He bent down, and unlatched the cage.

The moment it opened, the cat hissed and ran into his room. Johnny rolled his eyes, and set up its litter box in the bathroom, food bowls in the kitchen.

When he was done, he wiped his forehead with his sleeve and sat down on the sofa. He’d been thinking all night about what he was going to text Daniel. But as he took out his phone and stared down at the blank screen, he hesitated.

 _> > Hey, what_ _’s up? Still recovering from those martinis?_

He looked at the message. It was dumb, but straight to the point. He couldn’t do any better. He took a deep breath and pressed on _Send._

Then, he sat back, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

When he didn’t get a reply ten minutes later, he shot to his feet, and paced back and forth in the living room.

It was okay. Daniel was probably busy. It was a work day, so there were clients, sales meetings, endless reports. He dropped his phone on the coffee table and got busy.

*

An hour later, he was regretting taking the day off. He’d vacuumed the house, cleaned the kitchen, and tinkered with the television. When he returned to his phone, he expected to see a notification.

There was none. Johnny’s stomach twisted itself into a knot. What if something had happened to Daniel, and that’s why he couldn’t answer?

Johnny thought about driving to the dealership, and checking for himself, but he couldn’t. Whereas Mike’s car looked forgettable, the Firebird stood out like a sore thumb.

He shook his head. Daniel was _fine._ There was nothing wrong with him. Johnny just needed to relax, and think about other things.

He went to jerk off.

*

Maybe there was something wrong with the network. It didn’t hurt to test it out. He sent a _Hey_ to Jimmy.

One minute later, he got a reply:

 _> > Wow, Mr. Lawrence is joining the 21st Century. What’s next? Gonna send me an “email_ _”?_

Johnny rolled his eyes, and replied back:

_> > Asshole_

Okay, so the network was working. It was just Daniel who wasn’t answering.

*

Sometime in the afternoon, a crazy thought popped into Johnny’s head. It was so insane that he sat up from where he was sprawled on the sofa.

What if Daniel had seen the message, and this was all some kind of sick mind game he was playing? Not answering Johnny, making him wait, just so he could rile him up.

Johnny bit his lip, his gut twisting in a strange mix of anger and arousal.

He entertained the idea a while longer, relishing in its darkness—until he remembered Daniel’s doe eyes, soft smile, and he banished the thought from his head.

It was ridiculous. Daniel wasn't like that.

He laid back down.

*

He was flipping a bottle cap in the air, when he heard a hacking sound coming from the bedroom. Frowning, he jumped to his feet and ran inside. It was coming from underneath the bed, he sank down to his knees.

The cat had barfed on the carpet.

Johnny dragged it out by its paws, and it growled once before going quiet.

“We should really find you a name.”

The cat looked up at him, grumpy.

“Chappy.”

*

He prepared food for the cat, and then hovered to make sure it ate it all. Then, he explained to it the basic rules: where to find the litter box, how it shouldn’t go outside, and most importantly _don’t touch my beer._

By the time Johnny finished, it was late afternoon. He checked his phone: still no reply.

*

Around seven o’clock, he started to get angry. Okay, so Daniel was busy at work. Didn’t he go home every night? Have dinner with his family? There was something weird going on.

 _Maybe he gave you a fake number,_ the little voice said inside his head. _You annoyed him at the bar, and he thought it was the only way to get rid of you._

No. No, it couldn’t be. They’d gotten along that day. They’d talked, they’d _bonded_. At some moments, he’d even thought that—no, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

Johnny took a deep breath. That’s when he realized his fists were clenched so tight, there were deep grooves in the palms of his hands.

He went to jerk off again.

*

When night came, Johnny couldn’t take it anymore. He was sick of second-guessing himself, tired of waiting. He slipped on his shoes, and grabbed his car keys, ready to drive by Daniel’s house _(he was going to see him, he was going to—)_

He was about open the door, when his phone pinged. He froze, and hurried to get his phone out of his pocket.

_> > Believe it or not, I still feel hung-over_

He stared down at the words, his heart racing in his throat. Johnny didn’t stop to think, just started typing.

_> > You should learn how to hold your liquor LaRusso_

Thirty seconds later, his phone pinged again.

_> > Haha_

And then:

_> > You gonna teach me, Sensei?_

A thrill went down Johnny’s spine. Did the message seem a little flirtatious? Or was he being sarcastic?

_> > Yes_

_> > What do you suggest?_

_> > Another round. Are you free this Wednesday?_

He bit his nail. Maybe he was being too forward. He went to the kitchen, placed his phone on the counter, and took a jug of orange juice out of the fridge. He uncapped it and took large gulps, his eyes glued to the screen.

The phone pinged, and he almost choked on the liquid. He scrambled to pick it up.

_> > Just tell me the time and the place_

Johnny’s legs almost gave out.

“Fuck,” he said in relief. 


	9. about robby

The rest of the week crawled at a slow pace. On Tuesday morning, Johnny sent Daniel a message confirming the time and the place. He got a _Ok, great_ in return.

By the time Wednesday came by, he was a nervous wreck. An elderly couple had hired him to renovate their deck in Encino. He spent all day repairing cracks, filling holes and sanding wood. At four o’clock, he finished the first coat of paint in record time, and told the wife he’d be back tomorrow.

He jogged to the car and just as he turned on the engine, his phone rang. It was an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Lawrence?” A deep female voice asked. “Hi, this is Carla Jenkins, the vice principal of North Hills High. I’m calling about your son Robby Keene.”

Johnny tapped his fingers on the wheel. “What about him?”

“Sir, he was caught with illegal drugs in his backpack,” she replied gravely. “As of now, he’s earned himself a two-week suspension, but we still need to talk with you. Are you able to come, or should I try calling his mother again?”

Johnny stared at the time on the dashboard, and rubbed a hand over his face.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

So much for going home early.

*

The meeting with the vice principal was long and complicated. Apparently, Robby had been caught in possession of molly. They had a zero drug policy at school, and she implied that an expulsion was on the horizon. Johnny told her that wasn’t necessary and he’d have a talk with Robby.

When he walked out of her office, Robby was sitting in a chair, glowering at the floor.

“Get up,” Johnny said, jerking his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Robby tensed his jaw, and rolled to his feet. He was a hard line by Johnny’s side all the way to the car. Johnny settled in the driver’s seat, and put the key in the ignition.

He didn’t start the engine right away. He passed a hand over his mouth, his beard bristling underneath his fingers.

“You do drugs?” Johnny asked. His voice was quiet in the silence of the car.

When Robby didn’t answer, Johnny looked at him. He was staring stubbornly at his lap.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.”

“What’s it to you?” Robby shot back.

“She said you could get expelled.”

Robby looked away.

“So?” Johnny asked.

There was a long tense silence. Finally, Robby shrugged. “You didn’t need to pick me up. I could have gotten a ride by myself.”

Johnny shook his head, and started the car. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed he could never meet Robby halfway. It’s like they were riding two different wave lengths.

He drove for a few minutes, before speaking again.

“Listen, Robby. I know things have never been easy between us.”

“You think?” Robby muttered, but it lacked the usual venom.

“But I’d like for us to work on that,” Johnny continued over him. “That starts with us telling each other the truth, okay? If you need anything money, clothes, whatever. I can work it out with your mom, we can find a solution together.”

Robby didn’t answer. Johnny stopped at a red light, swallowing back his frustration. He was looking out the window, when his eyes caught on something in the distance.

It was a LaRusso Auto billboard he’d never seen before. A half-body shot of Daniel, leaning against a black Mercedes. He had a hand on the hood of the car, his head held high as he smiled directly into the camera. _Your #1 Dealership_ was written across the board in big bold letters.

“It’s green,” Robby’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Johnny blinked and checked the traffic lights. He put his foot down on the pedal, hoping he hadn’t been too obvious.

But of course, Robby noticed.

“Seriously, what’s your beef with that guy?”

He held a breath. “What?”

“You heard me. He kicked you in the head thirty years ago, and you’re still obsessing over it? What is this, some kind of latent homosexual awakening?”

Johnny’s fingers tightened around the wheel.

“Who told you that?” he croaked.

“Nobody,” Robby said, kicking his heel in the footwell. Then, he must have remembered Johnny’s words. “I heard Mom talking about it.”

Johnny tried to calm down his racing heartbeat. Had he been so transparent all those years? Did everyone know?

“Guess what,” Robby said, settling deeper into his seat. “Honesty is a two-way street.”

They didn’t say anything during the rest of the ride.

*

Johnny dropped Robby off. When he returned home, it was six o’clock, and he had an hour left to get ready. He shook off the conversation, and went to take a shower.

Every time he checked the clock, his stomach swooped in excitement, and the realization hit him all over again.

_I’m going to see Daniel._

It felt like he’d been waiting all week for this moment. Counting down the days, the hours, the minutes. He opened up his closet and surveyed his clothes.

“What looks better? Black shirt or grey?” He asked Chappy. The cat stared at him, its whiskers twitching moodily. Johnny rolled his eyes, and picked a pair of dark jeans, and a long sleeved black shirt.

Twenty minutes left. He prepared food for the cat, and changed the water in the bowl. Then, he grabbed his keys, and headed out.

He thought about getting Daniel flowers, but decided against it _(too soon)._ That being said, he still allowed himself to daydream about it, as he climbed into the car. Imagining the look of surprise on Daniel’s face, the flush rising in his cheeks.

Just as he started the engine, his phone pinged in his pocket. Remembering the call from Mrs. Jenkins earlier, Johnny sighed.

“What now?” he said, taking it out.

He opened up the message, his heart skipping a beat when he saw it was from Daniel.

_> > Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Got a dinner with a client. Rain check?_

Johnny clenched his jaw.

What the _f_ _u_ _ck?_


	10. spying

A cocktail of emotions ran through him: shock, disbelief, anger. How could Daniel change their plans at the last moment? It wasn’t fair. They were supposed to _see_ each other. They were supposed to—Johnny growled.

He didn’t realize he’d made a decision until he started rifling through the glove compartment. Old papers, sunglasses, a screwdriver. He made a sound of triumph when his fingers connected with a small card. He held up his phone, and dialed the number on the back.

The line rang a few times, before a female voice picked up.

“LaRusso Auto, how may I help you?”

Johnny softened his voice. “Hello, this is Tom Cole from Cole’s on Van Nuys. I’d like to speak with Mr. LaRusso, please.”

“Oh, Mr. Cole,” the receptionist said, surprised. “We didn’t expect your call. Let me see.” There was the sound of typing in the background. “Unfortunately, Mr. LaRusso is about to leave soon. Could you—”

He shut the phone before she could continue. He checked the time: six fifty. He could be there in fifteen minutes tops. The phone rang, probably the dealership calling back.

Johnny didn’t answer. He reversed the car out of the driveway, and gunned it.

*

He caught Daniel just as he left the dealership. Johnny tailed him, making sure to keep at least three cars between them at all times.

After a few miles, Daniel turned into the parking lot of a restaurant on Magnolia Boulevard. Johnny continued, and parked two blocks away. Before climbing out, he grabbed a baseball cap from the back seat and pulled it on his head.

It was a trendy restaurant, with high tables and a live band playing in the corner. The receptionist eyed his hat with distaste, but Johnny didn’t give a shit. He pushed his way inside, walking through the swarm of people, and found a seat at the bar.

He let his eyes roam over the area. It was crowded at this time of night, and the lighting was low, which made it harder to search for Daniel. He was convinced he’d gotten the wrong place, when his eyes caught on dark hair in the corner of the room.

It was Daniel sitting on a high stool. He’d removed his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves, showing off long, tan arms.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” the bartender asked.

Johnny barely spared him a glance. “Coors Banquet,” he said absently.

Daniel was swiping through his phone and sipping a martini. Johnny wondered what he was doing alone, when another man appeared at the table.

Johnny tensed. Daniel had stood him up for _this_ guy? He looked like a cheap knock-off version of David Hasselhoff. In his late fifties, dressed in a polo shirt and beige chinos. Daniel got up with a smile, and shook his hand.

A beer appeared at Johnny’s elbow. He nodded at the bartender, and took a long pull.

For the next thirty minutes, they talked, and ordered off the menu. It seemed innocent enough except...

There was something weird about the guy. Johnny couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but it had to do with the smarmy way he looked at Daniel. It made Johnny’s hairs stand on end, and his heartbeat quicken every time.

Daniel took out a tablet from his briefcase, and started showing the guy spreadsheets. Johnny watched him talk excitedly with his hands, when something hard jostled against his shoulder.

“Oh,” said a voice, laughing. “Are you okay?”

Johnny looked up. The woman was touching his elbow, and staring at him in amusement. He pulled away, and returned his attention to Daniel.

“Fine,” he grunted.

Daniel was really getting into the spreadsheets now, waving his hands faster. But the guy didn’t seem interested at all. It was almost like he preferred looking at Daniel instead of the tablet.

“Are you here alone?” she asked.

Johnny blinked, and turned back toward the woman.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes darting all over her. She was young with curly hair and a great rack. If it was any other time, he would have hit on her, maybe even taken her to the bathroom for a quick fuck.

“Well, that’s a pity,” she purred. She came closer to him. “How about I buy you a drink?”

“A drink?” Johnny said, distracted. Before she could reply, he turned his head back to the table, looking for Daniel. What he saw made his body go cold.

The guy had pushed the tablet to the side, and was leaning forward in his seat, with his hand wrapped tightly around Daniel’s wrist.

What the hell?

The chick was still talking, but Johnny couldn’t hear anything over the rush of blood to his ears. He shot to his feet.

“Excuse me,” Johnny said.

He kept his eyes on Daniel, as he walked along the bar. There was a water fountain at the other end. He stopped there.

Something was wrong. The guy’s hand was still on Daniel’s wrist, and there was now unbridled heat in his eyes. Daniel must have realized what was going on, because he looked uncomfortable—really uncomfortable. His smile was uneasy, and his shoulders tense. Why wasn’t he doing anything? Why wasn’t he _saying_ anything?

After a long moment, the guy released him. He got up and whispered something in Daniel's ear, before excusing himself. Johnny stared at the water fountain, his heart pounding in his chest, as the guy passed by behind him, presumably in direction of the bathroom.

Johnny focused on the gentle stream of the water. He tried to control his breathing, but the anger was rising hot and fast from the pit of his stomach.

He didn’t understand what the hell was going on. Who the fuck did the guy think he was? _(Take a deep breath, Mr. Lawrence. In and out, in and—)_ Johnny wanted to teach the asshole a lesson. He wanted to _—_ he glanced at Daniel.

There was a wary look on his face, and he was rubbing his wrist. He looked disappointed in himself.

Johnny felt the last thread of sanity splinter from his mind. He clenched his fists, and went inside. 


	11. beating up

It was 2009. Robby was seven, and Johnny had finally convinced Shannon to let him take the kid out on his own. They were at Applebee’s, sharing an ice cream sundae, when Johnny noticed a guy standing at the bar. Late twenties, sandy hair, and a jagged scar running down his left cheek.

The guy’s eyes kept roaming over the room, darting from booth to booth until he reached Robby—at which point his gaze would linger on the smaller body, before dropping to the floor and scattering away. He’d turn back to his beer with hunched shoulders. Only for the cycle to repeat again minutes later.

It set Johnny on edge. He could feel himself winding up tighter with every minute, and as time trickled by, he noticed that the waitresses were avoiding the guy like the plague, throwing him dirty looks behind his back. Johnny didn’t understand why, until the guy hopped on a bar stool, and the movement pulled up his jeans. Johnny’s eyes dropped down to his feet.

It was an ankle monitor.

A small hand pulled at his sleeve, interrupting his thoughts. Robby had abandoned his ice cream and was staring at him with a small crease between his eyebrows.

That’s when Johnny realized he had a death grip on his spoon. He opened his mouth, about to say _finish up and let’s go,_ when he noticed the guy turn around again, this time his eyes fixing on Robby and licking his lips.

Something in Johnny just— _snapped_. He threw down his spoon and got up. The rest was a blur. All he remembered was the anger that coursed through his veins, as he pummeled the guy into the ground. The sound of bone crunching under his fists, and Robby crying in the background.

Even after the cops arrived, he didn’t stop, because deep inside, there was the certainty that he was doing what was right. Protecting what was his.

It’s how he felt now as stood in the dark hallway, Daniel’s face etched into his memory. He didn’t wait for the guy to step out of the bathroom. Just as the door opened, he kicked it forward.

The guy staggered back. Johnny stepped inside, and locked the door behind him. The guy straightened himself, and Johnny grabbed him by the front of the shirt.

“Who are you?” The guy asked, right before Johnny bared his teeth and headbutted him in the face. He crumbled on the floor like a pack of cards.

“You think you can take what you want?” Johnny asked, kneeling on either side of his chest. “Huh?”

Johnny punched him, and the guy’s head cracked against the floor. He didn’t have time to recover before Johnny was striking him again. Again and again. Images flashed through his mind—the smudge of chocolate on Robby’s cheek, the hunch in Daniel’s shoulders, his mother’s fearful eyes. They swarmed through his mind like kaleidoscope pictures, and still he kept punching.

The only sound in the bathroom were Johnny’s hard grunts, and the smack of his fists. The guy didn’t stand a chance. He’d long ago stopped trying to defend himself, and yet Johnny continued. His lungs were on fire, his vision blurry, and all he saw was red—red on the man’s face, red on his knuckles, red on the floor.

Nobody got to touch Daniel. _Nobody._

When he stopped, he was panting like he’d run a marathon, and the guy’s face. It was a mangled mess, eyes swollen shut, neck strained at an awkward angle. Johnny felt numb and heavy.

He stood up slowly, and wiped his mouth with the edge of his sleeve, arm shaking with adrenaline.

“If you ever so much as look at him again,” he said, low and rough. “I will kill you.”

And the knowledge settled deep inside of him, etched itself in his bones.

Johnny shook his leg to get back some feeling, and then kicked him as hard as he could in the stomach. The guy whimpered, and curled up on his side in a fetal position.

He backed up against the door, breathing heavily. There was blood all over his hands. He wiped them on his shirt, and scrambled for the door handle.

The dark hallway was empty. He took out his car key, and wedged it into the slot, locking the bathroom from the outside. After a moment, he heard people coming from the restaurant. Johnny lowered his baseball cap, and shoved his hands into his pockets. He went in the opposite direction.

There was back door at the end of the hall, that led directly into an alleyway. He pushed his way through, and walked to the car. 


	12. going home

When he arrived to Reseda Heights, the sun had fallen and it was pitch black outside. Johnny got out of the car, and headed toward his apartment. He hunched his shoulders when he noticed the woman who lived across from him. She was standing at her doorstep, rummaging through her purse.

“Good evening,” she said in a pleasant voice.

Johnny nodded at her tersely before jamming his key into the lock and stepping inside his apartment. He closed the door behind him. The first thing he did was take off his shoes, his leather jacket, and make a beeline for the bathroom.

He threw his baseball cap on the floor, and examined himself in the mirror.

Fuck, he looked like he’d been through the wringer and back. There were traces of blood on his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, caked in his beard. He rubbed his face, feeling the sweat and grime under his fingertips. At least he looked better than the other guy.

He straightened up and massaged his knuckles with deep strokes of his thumb. It was red, swollen and hurt like a motherfucker—more than it should have. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip, and brought his knuckles closer to inspect them. That’s when he noticed something sharp digging out of his skin.

He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the drawer and nudged it softly with the tip. It took him a few tries to pull it out.

When he realized what it was, a wave of nausea washed over him.

It was a tooth fragment.

He chucked the tweezers, and bent down with his hands on either side of the sink, breathing in and out.

He told himself that he’d done what needed to be done. He didn’t have a _choice._ He thought back to the way the guy had grabbed Daniel by the wrist. He’d seen it many times before. It was the possessive touch of a man who was used to getting what he wanted. The guy had Grade A creep written all over him, and Daniel...

Johnny closed his eyes. He hadn’t realized how much Daniel’s words had affected him. It was all he could think about now. Daniel’s quiet admission in the car, about how men saw weakness inside of him, and tried to use it to their advantage.

Is that what had happened at the restaurant? Had the man sensed weakness?

He mulled it over, as he undressed himself. He dropped one item of clothing at a time, until they lay in a puddle on the floor. Then, he turned on the faucet of the shower, as cold as he could handle, and stepped under the spray. It stung and bit into his skin, but he didn’t care. He ran his knuckles slowly through the water, watching as the blood trickled down the drain.

The truth was that Johnny was worried. Daniel’s reaction during dinner had been disturbing. The man was two-time winner of the All-Valley Championship, and a black belt in karate. He could have easily fended off the guy’s advances if he wanted to. It didn’t make any sense.

Johnny bit his lip. Sometimes, it was like there were two sides to Daniel. The feisty, mouthy one, that spoke his mind and kicked ass; and then the quiet, meek one, who was afraid. Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? What other reason did he have for not doing anything?

Reaching for the soap, Johnny lathered it in his hands and started washing himself. He got rid of the dry blood in his beard, scrubbed his hair, his body. At the end of the shower, his limbs were shaking from the cold. He stepped out and dried himself with a towel.

When he walked into his bedroom, Chappy was curled up in a ball on the bed. Johnny rifled quietly through his drawers, pulling on boxers, a hoodie, and a old pair of jogging pants.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he could feel a bone-deep exhaustion settling in his bones. He checked his knuckles again. The wound had stopped bleeding, but the pain was still there. He headed to the kitchen to grab a painkiller and a bottle of beer.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, sipping his beer. Ten, fifteen, thirty minutes. He was tired as hell, and his mind was a swirl of endless questions. No matter which direction he flipped them, stretched them, he couldn’t make heads or tails of them.

He was finishing up the last of his bottle, when somebody knocked on the door.

Johnny swallowed the gulp in his mouth, and slowly put down the bottle. His mind rifled through the dozens of possibilities of who it could be.

The worst case scenario was that it was the cops, but that was impossible. He’d been careful to keep his head down all the way to the car. The only person he’d looked at on the way here was the neighbor. Even then, his face had been shrouded in darkness.

 _Maybe she called the cops because you didn’t tell her good night,_ the voice sneered inside of him.

Johnny rolled his eyes at himself. He drew closer to the window, and pulled down the blinders, half expecting to see flashing lights in the driveway. But it wasn’t a cop car that he saw, instead it was—

His breath caught in his throat. Before he could control himself, he’d walked to the door and opened it in one fell swoop.

Daniel stood in the doorway, with his hand in the air. At the sight of Johnny, he dropped it slowly.

“Hey,” Daniel said.

Johnny felt like the floor was falling from underneath his feet.


	13. tending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments so far! I really enjoy hearing your thoughts and speculations.

Johnny stood in shock. It took him a few minutes to get his throat working.

“Hey,” he said, swallowing hard. His eyes darted all over Daniel. “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh,” Daniel said, shifting on his feet. “There was a change of plans. I thought we could still have that drink?”

Johnny blinked, as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. What had happened at the restaurant? Had they found the guy? Did they call the cops?

Daniel’s gaze traveled to Johnny’s forehead, pausing there, before snapping back to Johnny’s eyes.

“What’s that on your face?” Daniel asked in an even voice.

Johnny reached for his forehead, distracted—wrong move. Daniel’s eyes widened at the sight of his knuckles.

“What happened?” Daniel asked.

_Shit._

“Nothing,” Johnny said, hiding his hand behind the door. “I fell in the shower.”

But Daniel whipped out his arm and grabbed him by the wrist, to look at it closely. “Johnny, this looks pretty bad.” He turned the knuckles around in his hand. “I can bandage it for you. Do you have a first aid kit?”

Johnny breathed in and out. Daniel’s fingers were warm around his wrist, his eyes big and brown.

“Yeah,” Johnny croaked.

There was a long pause. Daniel raised an eyebrow in clear question, and Johnny took a deep breath.

He stepped aside, and let him in.

*

The first aid kit was under the bathroom sink. Johnny hurried to throw all his blood-stained clothes in the laundry basket, and wash the tweezers in the sink. When he came back, Daniel was sitting on the sofa, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He’d removed his tie, and was staring at the carpet, lost in thought.

“Here,” Johnny said, holding up the bag. Daniel blinked and looked up. “I got it.”

“Right,” Daniel said, as he scooted down on the sofa and patted the seat next to him. Johnny sat down gingerly next to him. Daniel didn’t waste a second before opening the kit. He took out antiseptic cream, gauze, tape. Then, he got to work. He was methodical in his actions: first, applying the cream onto the cotton ball, before spreading it on Johnny’s wound.

Johnny was half-convinced that the headbutt had given him a mild concussion, and that he was imagining Daniel’s presence entirely.

“What happened with your dinner?” Johnny asked.

There was a moment of silence, as Daniel discarded the cotton ball, and took hold of the gauze.

“He bailed right before the food came,” Daniel replied.

So nobody had discovered the guy locked in the bathroom. Johnny swallowed.

“Weird,” was all he said.

Daniel hummed, and started to wrap Johnny’s knuckles in the fabric. “Yeah, he was supposed to buy two dozen cars from our dealership. I guess he changed his mind.”

He didn’t say any more, but a tension had creeped into his shoulders. Johnny chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Well, there are always other clients, right?” Johnny said.

Daniel didn’t react at first, but after a few moments, he released a breath, nodding. Johnny watched him work in silence. It was hard for him to reconcile the man in front of him, with the man he’d seen two hours earlier. The question still tormented Johnny.

Why hadn’t he _done_ anything?

“There you go,” Daniel said, patting Johnny on the hand. “All done.”

“Thanks,” Johnny rasped, flexing his hand. It was really well wrapped. “Want a beer?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Johnny nodded, and got up to the kitchen, his mind still preoccupied. He grabbed two bottles from the fridge, cracked them open, and sat back down.

They drank for a minute in silence.

“So...” Daniel said. “How’s work?”

It was such a mundane question that Johnny would have snorted if it had been any other time.

“The usual,” Johnny said instead. “Rich, stuck-up clients who want me to paint their entire house for half the market price.”

“You mean, the kind that live in two-story Encino villas?” Daniel asked, raising an eyebrow.

He was obviously talking about himself. Johnny quirked his lips in a humorless smile. “Something like that.”

“Yeah?” Daniel asked, sinking deeper in the sofa. He didn’t take his eyes off Johnny. “Tell me about them.”

So, Johnny did. He told Daniel about the couple who’d asked him to slash his prices by half, because he’d arrived ten minutes late in the morning. The guy who threw a fit when Johnny had the audacity to take a lunch break in his backyard. The lady who almost got him fired because he used the word _bitching._

Daniel chipped in from time to time, but mostly he just listened. There was a vulnerable line in his body that stayed there, no matter how long Johnny talked. He suspected Daniel was still thinking about the dinner, because his eyes kept glazing over, soft and unfocused, before snapping back to the present.

Eventually, Johnny got them a second beer, and they moved on to talk about other things. He watched as Daniel wrapped his lips around the bottle, and took a long pull, his throat working around the swallow. He looked absolutely sinful: his hair mussed, the top of his shirt unbuttoned.

Johnny felt heat curl around his spine. _No wonder the client had zeroed in on him,_ he thought. Daniel was irresistible without even trying.

After a moment, they were interrupted by a meow. Daniel blinked, and straightened up in his seat.

“Look at that.” He placed his bottle on the table, and held out his hand. The cat walked over, and started nosing at his fingers. “Aren’t you a beauty.”

Johnny unglued his eyes from Daniel’s profile, and watched as Daniel ran his palm through the cat’s fur.

“That’s Chappy,” Johnny said.

“Chappy, huh?” Daniel said, smiling. He scratched his nails behind the cat’s ears. “Nice name.”

Then, he leaned down with extended arms.

“Watch out for his nails,” Johnny warned, just as Daniel wrapped his hands around the cat’s middle and picked him up. To Johnny’s surprise, Chappy settled in his lap, happy as a clam. “Huh.”

“Yeah,” Daniel said. He rubbed his hand down Chappy’s back for a few seconds. “I always wished I had a cat as a kid.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Daniel shrugged a shoulder. “After my father died, we were always moving, going from place to place. Not sure it would have been a good life for a pet.”

Or a human, Johnny thought but didn’t say. He mulled over Daniel’s reply. Something about it made him uneasy.

“So, wait. What’s the longest you ever stayed in one place?”

Daniel rubbed Chappy’s nose, and for a moment, Johnny thought he hadn’t heard him. But then Daniel shrugged. “Five months.”

Johnny bit back his tongue. Five months? How could a person settle anywhere in that amount of time?

That’s when he realized he’d never seen Daniel with any guy friends. Even in high school, he’d always been alone. Hunched over his tray during lunch hour, munching on an apple during recess. Walking the hallway by himself. The only time he’d been surrounded by guys was when he was being beaten to a pulp, or slammed against a wall.

(You mean when _you_ were beating him to a—)

“He likes me,” Daniel’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Johnny blinked, and returned his attention to the conversation. Just as he was about to say something, Daniel spread his legs wider, jostling him.

Johnny tensed, as Daniel's knee stayed touching his. Under normal circumstances, he would have taken it as a sign. He would have pushed back, leaning into the heat. But now, knowing what had happened at dinner, what Daniel had just told him, he held himself back.

He swallowed. “Yeah, well you do seem to have a magic touch.”

Daniel hummed, and continued to pet the cat. That’s when Johnny realized that Daniel’s body had gone still as well—as if he was holding his breath. It only confirmed Johnny’s suspicions. This wasn’t a move. It was something else.

Like a test.

After a moment, Daniel leaned forward to release the cat on the rug. He sat back and fixed his eyes on Johnny.

“I should probably go,” he said, quiet in a way Johnny had never seen him before.

Johnny nodded. After a moment, Daniel got up, brushing the cat hairs off his thighs. Johnny followed him, as they both walked to the door.

“See you around,” Daniel said, turning toward him.

“Yeah.” Johnny licked his lips. “See you.”

He watched as Daniel climbed into his car, and slowly pulled out of the driveway. Johnny didn’t know how to feel about Daniel's visit, and in the blur of the night, he realized that he’d forgotten to ask Daniel the most important question of all.

How he’d gotten Johnny’s address.


	14. returning it

It’s only the next morning when Johnny walked into the living room, tired and hung-over, that he noticed Daniel’s blue tie on the sofa. He picked it up, feeling the thin fabric between his fingers. It was silky soft, and smelled of cologne when he pressed it to his nose.

He considered keeping it, but soon realized it was the perfect opportunity to see Daniel again. He got his phone from the kitchen, and started typing.

_> > You forgot your tie at my place._

He pressed on _Send,_ and rubbed the fabric against his lips. Fifteen seconds later, his phone pinged with a reply.

_> > I didn’t even realize. Mind dropping it off at the dealership?_

Johnny bit back a smile. He texted Daniel back, saying that he’d be there around five o’clock. When he got an _Ok_ in response, he put a step on it.

Thankfully, it was a low-effort day. Just some old guy in Van Nuys, who needed small reparations around his house. So, Johnny spent all day hanging shelves, fixing leaky faucets, applying touch-ups. He thought about Daniel the entire time. The dip of his throat, the softness of his hands. The way he’d pushed his leg against Johnny.

If the night before had proved anything to him, it’s that Daniel had cared enough to seek him out. He’d needed comfort and reassurance, and he’d come all the way to Johnny to get it.

The thought caused a ribbon of heat to pool in his lower belly.

Johnny finished early, and hurried home to shower and get dressed. Then, he drove to the dealership.

The moment he stepped inside LaRusso Auto, he knew that something was wrong. There was a tension in the air, like a thick cloud had settled over the place. He tucked the tie in his jacket pocket, and headed toward the receptionist. This time, she didn’t hesitate before picking up the phone.

“Mr. LaRusso will be here shortly,” she said with a strained smile.

Johnny nodded, before turning his eyes back to the showroom. It was crowded at this time of day, yet the employees were all clustered in pairs, whispering amongst each other. He frowned, wondering what the hell was going on, when he noticed two of them huddled a few feet away. He recognized the curly-haired man from the first day.

“—could have just been a coincidence,” he said in a low voice.

“Yeah, a coincidence,” snarked the taller man in a Jersey accent. “A huge coincidence.”

The man’s jaw tightened. “Do you always have to repeat things like that?”

“You’re saying our client _happened_ to get beaten up on the day we were supposed to get a big contract? You don’t find that weird?”

Johnny froze.

“Louie, you’re talking out of your ass, again.”

“No, I’m telling you. How much you wanna bet it’s one of Cole’s lackeys, huh? He called right before it happened, asking for my cuz. That’s some horror shit right there—”

They continued arguing, but Johnny was no longer listening. He shoved his injured hand into his jacket pocket, and stared at the floor.

So, they’d finally found the guy at the restaurant. Now what? Had he said anything? Johnny hadn’t worried about it so far, because he’d told himself that the bathroom had been dim, and he’d clocked the guy before he could get a good look at him. But he was beginning to second-guess himself.

He returned his attention to the conversation, only to realize that the two men had gone quiet. He didn’t have time to question it: there was the sound of heels clacking on the floor, and coming closer. He looked up.

It was Daniel’s wife.

She was wearing a navy blue skirt, and a steely expression on her face. She walked up to them and dropped her voice. “Are you kidding me? Do you not see all the clients out there?” She raised her eyebrows, and jerked her head. “Get back to work.”

They muttered a mix of _Sorry, boss_ and _Right on it,_ and scurried away. The wife— _Amanda,_ Daniel had said once—turned around, massaging her temple. She dropped her hand, and froze when she noticed Johnny’s eyes on her.

“I’m sorry,” Amanda said, fixing a smile on her face. “Can I help you?”

Johnny straightened his back, and squared his shoulders.

“This is Mr. Lawrence,” the receptionist addressed her. “He’s here for a meeting with Mr. LaRusso.”

“Oh,” Amanda said in surprise. “Are you here to buy a new car?”

Johnny cleared his throat. “No, I came to drop off something.”

“I see,” she said, her smile turning confused. “If it’s a package, I’m sure you can leave it here. I’ll make sure that it arrives to my husband.”

“Oh no, I’m not a delivery guy. I know LaRusso.” When she looked even more confused, he added: “From high school.”

Her eyes lit up in interest.

“High school?” she asked, drawing closer. “Wow. I don’t know much about Daniel’s high school days. Well, except for—”

“Johnny?” a voice called from across the dealership. They both turned around.

It was Daniel. Johnny drank in the sight of him. He looked pristine as always, dressed in a tailored suit that accentuated his thin waist, and a blue dress shirt that brought out the color of his eyes.

Daniel came closer, and checked his watch. “I’m sorry. I thought you said you were coming at five.”

“I finished work early.”

“Oh,” Daniel said. He glanced at Amanda, whose lips had now stretched in a megawatt smile. “Amanda, this is—”

“Johnny Lawrence,” she said with a flourish. Her eyes shone in recognition. “You’re the guy from the Tournament.”

Johnny’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Amanda said, looking back at Daniel. “This is such a surprise. I didn’t know you two reconnected.”

“We went out once or twice,” Daniel said, putting his hands in his pockets. He seemed uncomfortable. “Caught up on old times.”

“Old times, huh?” Amanda said. “Well, now I’m even more curious. It’s the first time I meet an old friend of Daniel’s.” She tongued the inside of her cheek. “I’d love to get to know you. How would you like to come over for dinner?”

“Amanda, I’m sure he’s busy,” Daniel cut in.

“I’m not busy,” Johnny corrected him, and Amanda only smiled wider.

“How does tomorrow sound?” she asked.

“Great,” Johnny said.

“Great,” Amanda repeated, turning to Daniel. She caught him by the lapels of his suit jacket, and slid her hands down his chest. “This is exactly what we need, a nice dinner to get our minds off this godawful day.”

Her smile faltered, when she noticed that the two men she’d told off earlier, had congregated on the other side of the showroom. She narrowed her eyes.

“I’ll be back.”

And then, it was just them. Johnny put his hand in his left pocket, stroking the tie between his fingers one last time, before taking it out.

“Here’s your tie,” Johnny said, handing it over.

Daniel looked down at it, touching it. “Thanks,” he said, before tucking it away.

They sank into an awkward silence, and Johnny shifted on his feet.

_Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it._

“Hey, listen. If you don’t want me to come over for dinner, it’s fine—”

“No, no,” Daniel said quickly. He rubbed the back of his neck, before dropping his hand. “Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind, with what happened...” He trailed off, and took a deep breath. “I’d love to have you come over.”

Johnny’s shoulders sagged in relief. If he’d said no, he would have ended up stalking Daniel outside his house anyway. So, it was good to know he was wanted.

“Okay, then.”

“How are you?” Daniel asked, eyes darting to Johnny’s right hand.

He didn’t show any signs of suspicion. If anything, there was a worried crease between his eyebrows.

“Good,” Johnny said, flexing his hand. “Better. I changed the bandage an hour ago.”

“Does it still hurt?” Daniel asked.

Johnny bit the inside of his cheek. He considered saying yes, just to have Daniel worry over him. But there was still time for that. “No.”

Daniel nodded, relieved. “Okay, yeah. That’s good, I’m glad.” He stalled for a few seconds. “I gotta go. I have... a lot of things. So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you.”

After Daniel walked away, Johnny had to stop himself from bouncing on the balls of his feet. He couldn’t believe it. He was finally going to see the inside of Daniel’s house.

The best part was that it was Daniel’s wife who’d invited him in the first place—which meant she didn’t see him as a threat. He’d have to make sure to keep it that way.

As he headed toward the car, Johnny told himself one thing: he would have beaten the shit out of someone a lot sooner if he’d known it meant seeing Daniel three days in a row.


	15. daniel's house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The countdown begins to the end of part one...

He spent all of Friday powering through work, anything to keep his mind off the upcoming dinner.

At one o’clock, his phone rang. He looked down at Bobby’s name flashing on the screen. Tomorrow was the last Saturday of the month, which could only mean one thing: _Game Night Bonanza_ with the Brown family. Johnny rolled his eyes, and sent the call to voicemail. He ignored the two other missed calls he received in the afternoon.

Afterward, he went home, showered and got dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a black dress shirt. He stopped by a flower shop, bought a bouquet.

When he arrived to Daniel’s house, his entire body was vibrating with anticipation. It was surreal walking down the pathway to Daniel’s door with its immaculate flowerbeds and mowed lawn. There were garden gnomes on the grass that he’d never seen before. (Okay, so he’d driven by a few times this week, sue him). He took a deep breath, and rang the bell.

The door opened, and a small boy appeared, black earphones dangling from his neck. He barely glanced at Johnny.

“Hey, dude,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away.

Johnny blinked and waited for someone else to come to the door. When nobody did, he slowly ventured inside. His stomach tightened. The interior was even more beautiful than he’d imagined: hardwood floors, rustic furniture, a spacious room with high ceilings. He stood in the foyer, feeling somehow small, when he saw a figure in the corner of his eye.

It was Daniel. He entered the foyer, fussing with his hair, and muttering to himself. He looked up and froze at the sight of Johnny.

“John,” he said, flushing. “You’re here.”

Johnny bit his lip, and jerked his head toward the hallway. “Kid opened the door for me.”

“Right... That must have been Anthony. Sam’s not here yet, she just texted me, she needs half an hour.” Daniel came closer, staring at the bouquet. “Are these for me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, shoving them in his hands.

Daniel smiled, and fuck, he looked gorgeous. The crinkle around his eyes, the dimples peeking from the center of his cheeks, but then he said: “These are for funerals.”

Johnny’s heart plummeted.

“What?”

“Lilies and white roses?” Daniel said, his eyes dancing in amusement. “It’s what you give people when they’re dead.”

Johnny looked down at the flowers. Shit. He was so dumb. He leaned forward to take them back, but Daniel backed away, laughing. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Go have a seat.”

He clenched his fists, and watched as Daniel disappeared into the kitchen. After a while, he went to the living room. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He sat down on the sofa. There was a bowl of chips on the coffee table. He grabbed a handful, and threw them angrily into his mouth.

Johnny was still replaying the scene in his head, when Amanda appeared a few minutes later. They exchanged the usual _how are yous._

 _“_ You’ll have to excuse Daniel. He’s finishing up dinner,” Amanda said, sitting in an armchair. “Since the weather is nice, we thought we could eat out in the backyard for a change. Is that okay with you?”

“Fine by me,” he said, still feeling embarrassed. He tried to shake it off.

“Did you find the house okay?”

“Yeah, it was no problem,” he said, before pausing. “You have a nice home.”

He wished he could dig himself into a hole, and die.

Amanda’s lips did a funny thing, like she was trying not to laugh. “Thank you. You know, I was really happy to see you at the dealership. Daniel told me a lot about you.”

“Yeah?” Johnny asked. He remembered Amanda’s words, referring to Johnny as an _old friend._ “What exactly did he say?”

“That you fought in warring karate dojos,” Amanda said, rolling her eyes. “That you had some kind of crazy rivalry over a girl, but settled your differences at the All-Valley tournament.”

Johnny wouldn’t really call it “settling their differences.” He was the one that got kicked in the face. Amanda continued talking.

“So, Johnny. What do you do?”

They talked about work for a while. Amanda was funny, easy-going, but there was steel underneath the soft exterior. He had the impression that she was a no-nonsense woman with a strong personality.

The entire time, Johnny had to keep his eyes from roaming to the hallway. He just wanted to see Daniel again, see the smile on his face. He could feel it like an itch underneath his skin.

“What about you?” Johnny asked, returning his focus to the conversation. “You two been working together long?”

“We opened our first dealership seventeen years ago, before Sam was born. We’d only been employees until then, and we weren’t too happy. So, we decided to quit our day jobs, and do our own thing.”

“It looks like it’s doing well.”

“It is. I mean, there are ups and downs,” Amanda said, her smile fading. “Actually, more than a few downs lately.”

She was obviously thinking about the assault. Did they have a lead on the attacker? Johnny had to be careful with his next words.

“Oh, yeah. Things seemed tense yesterday. Did something happen?”

God, he was such a liar.

Amanda bit her lip, like she wasn’t sure she should talk about it.

“Just—Daniel had this meeting with a client, and it didn’t go as well as we expected.”

Johnny nodded in encouragement.

“The guy was big fish,” Amanda explained. “He was starting a cab company, and wanted to buy all his assets from our dealership. It was meant to be the first order in a much bigger line of orders. But then...”

When she didn’t say anything for a few seconds, Johnny prodded her, “Then?”

Amanda shook her head, and sighed. “Let’s just say we worked really hard on the presentation. We were looking forward to the dinner all week and then when the time came, the guy got attacked in the bathroom of the restaurant. I know, it sounds awful and it _is_...”

She continued to talk, but Johnny’s brain had short-circuited, until all he could hear was the rush of blood to his ears. _We were looking forward to the dinner all week._ What? Just—what?

No.

Daniel had canceled half an hour before seeing Johnny. He’d made it seem like it was a last minute thing. Why would he plan drinks with Johnny, knowing that he already had a dinner? It didn’t make any sense.

He must have misunderstood.

Johnny didn’t realize he’d zoned out, until the room went quiet. He snapped out of his daze, and looked up.

“I lost you, didn’t I?” Amanda asked, wincing. “Sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear all the gory details.”

“No, it’s not that,” Johnny said, his throat suddenly parched. He needed to ask. He needed to—But how could he without sounding like an absolute lunatic?

_So you’d really planned the dinner a week before? As in, it was written in your schedule?_

“Uh,” Johnny stalled for something to say.

Amanda raised an eyebrow in question. As if Johnny didn’t need any more surprises, the front door opened at that moment.

“Hey, Mom,” a female voice called out in the hallway. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck in traffic, and then...” A girl entered the living room, and trailed off at the sight of Johnny.

What the fuck?

Johnny stood up, feeling like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“Sam,” Amanda said, smiling. “This is Johnny Lawrence. He’ll be our dinner guest for the night.”

Johnny took in the sight of her: the round face, dark eyebrows, curly hair. He knew that goddamn face. He fucking knew it.

 _It was the girl who’d wrecked his car._


	16. making a deal

Daniel called for help in the kitchen, and Amanda excused herself from the living room. Johnny managed to keep it together until she disappeared from view. But before he could say anything, Sam clenched her fists, and took a jerky step forward.

“You,” she said, her voice full of accusation.

Johnny’s hackles rose.

“Me?” he growled. “I’m the one who should be pissed here. You’re the one who wrecked my car.”

She narrowed her eyes in anger. “What are you even doing here?”

“I’m a friend of your dad’s,” Johnny said, because it was easier to explain than this—this _thing_ between them. “And I wonder how LaRusso is going to feel when he finds out his princess was involved in a hit and run.”

“You’re his friend and you call him LaRusso?” she sneered back.

“I call him whatever the hell I want. Do you have any idea how much I had to dish out to fix my car?”

“Well, I wasn’t the one driving.”

Johnny scoffed. “Yeah, because your dad is _really_ going to care about the details.”

A crack in her armor. “You’re not going to tell him.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not!”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Johnny said, taking a step toward to the hallway. He didn’t go very far. She jumped in front of him, full on panicking now.

“No, please stop! I’ll be grounded forever.”

“How is that my problem?”

“It wasn’t my fault, okay? It was my friend. I kept telling her to go back, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

He shook his head.

Sam’s eyes flashed in anger. “Come on, haven’t you ever messed up as a teenager?” she snapped.

Johnny looked away, and gritted his teeth. The night couldn’t have turned out any worse. First, the stupid flowers, then Amanda’s words, and now _this_. He stared at the floor, thinking.

“Please,” Sam begged him. “I’ll do anything. Just please don’t tell my parents.”

He passed a hand over his beard, feeling the hard bristles against his palm. Fuck, there was one thing on his mind that was more important than anything else. It was risky to ask her, but she was desperate, and so was he. He needed the information.

“Okay,” Johnny said, dropping his hand. “There’s one thing you can do.”

Her expression turned guarded.

“What is it?”

What—did she think he was going to _proposition_ her or something? Fucking teenage girls. He swallowed back a snarky reply.

“Your dad had a meeting with a client two days ago. You know about it?”

Sam’s eyebrows knitted together. “The one where the guy got attacked?”

“Yes. I want to know how far back he’d planned the dinner.”

“Why?”

Annoyance shot up his spine. “Listen, do you want me to tell your dad or not?”

“No, okay,” she said quickly. “I’ll do it. I’ll ask my mom.”

“Okay, good,” he said, his shoulders sagging. “And be discrete about it. I don’t want you raising any suspicions.”

Sam bit her lip. “But then that’s it? You won’t tell my parents?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, and in the face of her skepticism, he added, “I promise. Just find out that information for me, and we’re even.”

Sam stared at him, and Johnny tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. She seemed to believe him, because the tension left her body, and she nodded once. At that moment, Amanda walked back into the living room.

“Food is ready,” she said, clapping her hands once. “Let’s go eat?”

Sam gave Johnny a lingering look, before turning on her heel. “Let me go get cleaned up, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Amanda didn’t notice anything wrong. She smiled at him, and headed out, expecting him to follow. But Johnny didn’t go right away. He stayed where he was, mulling over everything that had happened so far, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. For the first time in a long time, he felt out of his element.

What the hell was going on?

After a while, he pulled himself together, and walked out into the hallway. Just as he reached the door of the backyard, Daniel emerged from the kitchen, removing his apron and hanging it on a hook by the door.

“I hope you’re hungry for lasagna,” Daniel said. He did a double-take when he caught sight of Johnny’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Johnny stopped. Now, in front of Daniel, it felt like his lungs had shrunk to the size of pebbles, and he couldn’t get enough air.

“Nothing,” he lied. “I’m fine.”

“No,” Daniel said in a firm voice. He came closer and wrapped his hand around Johnny’s upper arm. “Tell me what happened.”

Johnny breathed. Daniel’s eyes were wide and brown, and so innocent. Why would he lie about being free for drinks, only to cancel at the last moment? Was this all some kind of twisted way of messing with Johnny? But the way he looked at Johnny sometimes...

He realized that he could just ask Daniel. Straight up. No pussying around. Strike first, and all that bullshit. But if it was true... If Daniel had lied, Johnny needed to know why, and he knew for a fact that he wasn’t going to get the truth by confronting him.

“I’m just really hungry,” Johnny rasped. He shrugged a shoulder. “I skipped lunch.”

At least, that part was true. Daniel’s eyes darted over his face, analyzing. Johnny stared back, daring him to say something else.

“Okay,” Daniel breathed out. He released Johnny’s arm, and flexed his hand in the air. “Good thing I made a lot of food.”

Johnny nodded, and when Daniel didn’t say anything else, he went outside. He could feel Daniel’s footsteps behind him, like a phantom trail.

He had to believe this was a misunderstanding, and he was making a big deal out of nothing. He _had to._ Because if not... well, he wasn’t ready to think about what that meant.


End file.
